THE LAST DAY IN THE CITY OF IDRIS
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sun had entered the sea-guarded doors of its fairy palace in the west, a flute played somewhere, a drum was heard and the high wailing of a late meuzzin reached our ears:
"La Illah Illah Allah! Allah Akbar …"
A night-bird whimpered, wild pigeons and thrushes gave their evening calls and the locusts began their neverending rasp.
